


Tenderly Comforting

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8352022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: Snow nurses Regina through a nasty illness.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trobadora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trobadora/gifts).



> ...coming soon...
> 
> Background: In the casting of Snow's dark curse, a stray thought shifts the balance in her relationships with David and Regina. Even after Regina breaks the curse, their newly formed triad continues, mostly in secret because of none of them are quite ready to expose the rest of the town to this shift in their lives. The Charmings provide Regina with much-needed emotional support as she struggles to put her life back into some semblance of order in the aftermath of their trip to the Underworld and the loss of Robin and Roland. Regina reverts to her pricklier side as she sees the other True Love couples still together, while she suffers alone again.

A knock at the door startles me from thoughts that I can't even fully remember. It takes a moment to get to my feet without my stomach lurching overmuch, and all the while that incessant knocking keeps going. Part of me wants to erect a silencing spell, but whoever it is will likely continue or find some other way to get my attention. Slow, careful steps take me to the three steps leading down to the front door, which I yank open in an attempt to appear more annoyed and in control than I really am.

"Oh!" comes the startled voice as its owner stumbles and nearly falls into me. "You _are_ home, Regina."

"Where else would I be, Snow?" My words are slurred, but I don't care. The cider's gone a long way to blunt the worst of my emotions, and I'd like to keep it that way a bit longer. "Car's still here and I--"

"You are in no condition to drive, Regina," she says, bustling in past me with a bag in her arms. "In fact, you don't seem to be in any kind of good condition right now. But I'm here now and we'll fix that right up."

Still leaning against the door to keep myself upright, I glare at her back and wish I could turn my eyes into lasers to blast her into oblivion. She keeps chattering inanely as she goes into the kitchen, then comes back out with empty hands to go out to her car. Perhaps a less compromised version of me would just close and lock the door after her, but all I can do is stand there and watch her. The late afternoon sunshine is painful, but if I take a step away from this door, I'll land in an inelegant heap on the floor. I refuse to be so weak in front of anyone, especially Snow fucking White.

"You don't look so good, Regina," she says, pulling me back to the present.

"What?"

The back of her hand rests briefly against my cheek, followed by my forehead. Her fingers feel cool against my overheated skin, and I can't stop the soft moan escaping my lips. A smile softens the knowing, sympathetic look in her eyes as she sets the second bag on the floor just inside the doorway. In the time it takes me to recognize boxes of expensive pasta -- and it takes far too long to realize it's the same brand I buy when I can't make my own -- she has an arm around my waist and one of mine around her shoulders so she can support my weight while closing the door behind us.

"Come on, Regina, let's get you up to bed," she says softly as she guides me up the three steps to the foyer. "You can rest and I'll make you something to eat."

I want to fight her, I want to pull away from her comforting touch and return to the oblivion of the cider, but something stops me. It clenches my heart in its fist until breathing is difficult. The sting of tears burns in my eyes as my feet move alongside hers in some sort of battle of wills with my head. Exhaustion, drunkenness, and something else that I don't want to acknowledge are the culprits for my traitorous head to settle against her shoulder. Counting the steps I've trod for thirty years, I close my eyes and trust her to guide me without issue. The next thing I know, the soft cocoon of my bed is shifting and conforming around my body.

"Shoes," I mutter, shifting onto my left side to be more comfortable.

Snow chuckles and settles blankets around me before the mattress dips slightly as she sits. "You're not wearing shoes, Regina, and I took mine off at the door. I know your rules, remember? Just rest for a bit and I'll bring you a cup of chamomile with honey and lemon."

"Probably poison it," I mutter, exhaustion tugging at the edges of consciousness until I just give in.

~*~*~ ~*~*~ ~*~*~

"Regina?"

Groaning, I pull the covers over my head and burrow down further into my safe, warm cocoon. Sleep still entices with all of its very best tricks, and I have no desire to resist its siren song. The incessant pounding of my pulse in my ears makes the desire for oblivion even stronger.

"Come on, honey, you need to drink some tea. It'll help with your headache."

Snow. That's Snow's maternal tone. The memory of her using that tone to coax the feverishly ill Wilma back to health from her infected leg wound bubbles up to the surface. The stories she told to distract me from the worst of the pain are now just a constant flow of soft murmurs, like the water in the creek running over a series of rocks, but my heart aches with the need for more.

"I know you'd rather just sleep, but you're likely dehydrated. The tea will be good to warm you up from the inside out. Just half a dozen sips and I'll let you go back to sleep, I promise."

Groaning again as she pulls back the covers, I start to throw an arm over my eyes until I realize that it's much darker in the room than expected. One of the tight bands around my chest loosens at the love shown in this gesture. She helps shift me up to lean against the headboard and offers me the cup. The steam wafts up into my face, relaxing that band a little more. I can't help the relieved moan as that first sip glides down my throat, warmth radiating outward so quickly, it makes me shiver. With her soft encouragement, I take several more sips and relish the brief sensation of normalcy.

"Better now?" she asks as she sets the cup on the nightstand within easy reach.

"A little," I reply, wincing at how rough my voice sounds.

"That's good." Her hand moves to touch cheek and forehead again. "You're still pretty warm, Regina, so we're not out of the wood yet. Sleep, tea, and some chicken noodle soup will help."

"You're cooking? If you destroy my kitchen…"

The threat hangs in the air between us, but she simply laughs and leans forward to nuzzle my cheek. My eyes close at the emotion trying to beat its way out past those bands around my chest, back going ramrod straight out of habit. If she notices the shift in body language, she doesn't bring it up at all. Instead, she continues to stay close, a hand stroking my hair and shoulder until I relax into her touch.

"There we go," she says softly, humor threading into her words. "You always were a horrible patient."

"I didn't like being unnecessarily fawned over."

That brings a louder, unfettered laugh, but I flinch at the sound. Without missing a beat, she modulates her tone and pulls back to cup my cheek. "You're also a horrible liar when you're not at your best, but I won't hold that against you. But this means I can tell David that you're still with us when he calls later."

"Go home, Snow. Your husband and son need you. All I need is some sleep."

"Oh, I'll go home, but not until you're better. If you weren't potentially contagious, David would have brought you to the loft when he stopped by earlier with Henry. Maybe when you're more on the mend, he can bring Neal for a visit. They could even stay here with us while you recover."

"No!" The vehemence of my reply makes my throat ache, and I cough until tears swim in my eyes again.

"You can't get rid of us that easily, Regina," she replies, handing me the tea again, "and you certainly don't have to do this all alone. You have people who love you and want to keep you around, even if you think you don't want or deserve it."

Unable to answer her as I sip at the tea, swallowing painfully, I just glare at her over the rim of the cup. She gets that indulgent smile again, the one that I always hate to see because it means that she's right and we both know it, and points to the nightstand. A bottle of water, a box of tissues, and a handful of the homemade cough suppressant drops I made cover the surface.

"I want you to take these." Her fingers uncurl to reveal a pair of capsules in her palm. "Acetaminophen to help with the pain, and I added some willow bark extract to your tea for the fever." She watches as I take the pills, and I'm surprised she doesn't verify that I've swallowed them. "That's my girl. Get some more sleep, okay? I'll bring up a cup of broth as soon as your soup's ready. We'll go easy on your stomach to start off."

"Not going to puke on you," I mutter darkly as I hand her the cup and shift back down into the warmth of my bedding. "Not for lack of trying, mind you."

She chuckles softly and tucks the covers in around me as I settle on my side again. "You know better than to drink when you're not feeling well, Regina."

"Didn't want to feel…"

"I know, and I know that you don't think you deserve what we've offered you. I won't give up on you, Regina, and I won't let you give up on yourself either. I love you too much to lose you."

The scowl on my face softens slightly at the sincerity of her words. "I hate being weak."

"I know you do, and you think your heart makes you weak, but you're wrong. Your heart, your capacity to feel love, is your greatest strength. Who was it that taught me that love is the most powerful magic of all?"

"True Love is the most powerful magic, Snow, and we don't have that. My True Love is dead. Both of them are dead."

"Henry's not dead, is he?"

"No," I reply with a frown. "That's different."

"No, it's not. True Love has no definition other than being exactly what it is. You and Emma both proved with Henry that it doesn't have to be romantic. The fact that you and I never killed each other, despite countless opportunities, also proves it." She leans in until the tips of our noses touch, and I can feel her breath gently waft against my lips. "I love you, Regina, and you're not going to get rid of me that easily."

Her lips brush against mine, a familiar sensation that I've missed over the past couple of weeks since our return from the Underworld. Since the funeral and the loss of Roland when the Merry Men returned to the Enchanted Forest. Since I locked myself away in this house, choosing to drink myself into oblivion instead of reach out for the love still offered to me.

Whimpering softly at the easy connection with this woman I know almost as well as myself, I reach out to clutch at her sweater for dear life. "Don't leave me." The words are so soft, I wonder if I've spoken them or merely thought them.

"Not a chance of that happening," she replies just as softly, shifting to slip under the covers with me. As I melt into the warm familiarity of her, she kisses me again. It's just as chaste as the first one, but it offers and affirms every promise of love she's sworn to me. It settles me in my skin a bit more. "Sleep now, Regina. I've got you and I'm not letting go ever again. I promise."

"Love you, Snow," I mumble, nuzzling into the side of her neck as I succumb to exhaustion again.


End file.
